Your Hazel Eyes
by Mondie
Summary: /Mondie's first slash!\ Itey has to come to terms with a shameful side of himself... and the only one who will understand is the best friend of the one he can't have. Rated for slash and language. Stolen Falco waffles to reviewers!


[**author's note**] Thanks to Misprint who read this through for me beforehand! I heart you Misi! She helped me edit stuff. Yay! 

[**author's second note**] This is not my usual fic style. It's written in second person, present tense, which is strange enough in itself, and then I'm attempting to use the awkward feelings and run-on sentences and such to set the mood. So yes, I realize it sounds strange. It was intended. ^_^

[**author wanders away and then remembers another point and comes back to excuse herself further**] Yeah, yeah, so I also just made Mushy have hazel eyes. I like hazel eyes. Ya got a problem with it?? ;D LOL! I don't care if his eyes are actually brown… they're hazel for the literary purposes of my story. Yeah.

Your Hazel Eyes

                "Blink's mad at me tonight." I pause in my talking and watch you. You don't speak, but your eyes do. I continue after a moment. "Yes, again." My self-response sounds stupid, even to me. You laugh. Apparently you think the same. "Stop laughing. I don't know how to fix it this time, Mush," I tell you. Those damn hazel eyes. Your eyes are real nice, ya know? Yeah, I know you know. That girl currently infatuated with you keeps reminding you of this exact point. I curse softly. I'm no better than that stupid little girl… what's her name? Ah, never mind. You'll forget about her tomorrow and get a new girl the day after that. So many damn girls, Mush! How have you not made it full circle yet?

                I sigh as I run my trembling fingers through the damp black curls topping my head… I need a haircut. And, God above, why can't I stay on topic, even in my thoughts? I brought you outside to talk about him. But not yet. Not … yet. I need some time. I think you understand, though. You're settling down with your back leaning against the stone ledge running the rooftop's perimeter. You still don't talk, just watch me with those goddamn understanding hazel eyes, and the most terrible thing is that I could divulge my awful secret, and you still wouldn't judge me. But I'm not ready! Your eyes study me softly, as if I'm made of glass. I wonder if I'll break when you drop the gaze, and for a moment I'm terrified that you'll look away and I'll cease to exist. Finally you do, and I can breathe again. My God… how can a person be as wonderful as you are? Tears in my eyes, hasty diamonds flattering the tips of my black eyelashes. It's no wonder you are the secret-keeper of all of us boys here. Patience… you're the single person living in this lodging house with even a shred of patience. And you just watch me, goddamn you! Just watch me with your hazel eyes. And I'll be able to tell you. Yes, tonight I will tell you.

                "How do you know he's mad at you?" Your voice finally breaks the silence that's fallen over us. I jump, startled, then smile sheepishly. You pretend not to notice. God, you're so kind. Just imagine if I'd brought Jack out here tonight, or Race. Would they allow me to keep a firm hold on what little pride I own? Of course not, they'd jump over me for my vulnerability. But then again, they don't have your hazel eyes, either.

                I shrug at you, nonchalantly. "He won't talk to me," I remind you. "He won't even look at me. And I don't know what the hell I did to him this time…" I angrily strike a match against my boot, then light my last cigarette. I inhale deeply, and my fluttering heart slows some. I'm grateful. "We used to be such great friends, ya know? And now what!"

                You look almost scared for a moment, and then finally offer up, "Are you mad at me for becoming best friends with him, Itey?"

                This completely baffles me. I can't help but scoff, and I apologize immediately, because you look so insulted.

                "It's just that you'd probably be closer friends if I weren't in the way," you insist, and your calm hazel eyes all of a sudden look so hidden from me, like you purposefully just closed them off.

                I begin to laugh. "Oh, Mush, no! None of it is your fault, believe me."

                For a moment, we stare at each other, and I'll be damned if the relief isn't visible right there in the air between us!

                Now we settle back into our silence. God, I realize again that I'm going to tell you tonight. And you'll keep my secret, because you are Mush, and you are good. And I love that I can trust you with this. Could I even trust Blink with this? A nagging thought in the back of my head thinks that I couldn't. I try to get rid of the thought, but it won't leave. Damn.

                "Mush? I can tell you anything, right, and you'll keep it a secret?" That veil which hid your eyes from me suddenly lifts, and all you can do is smile at me. I know this is a yes, but I had had to ask, just in case. You understand. God, how _do you always understand?_

                Not that I'm complaining. You're the best of all of us, Mush.

                I fiddle with the hem on my thin pants. The stitching is coming out of the left leg. I frown at it, and avoid your eyes. Yet I can still feel them on me, the hazel beams setting fire to my face. I almost decide not to do it. I can't risk this. You shouldn't have to put up with me, to know how horrible I truly am. You think I'm wonderful. You think everyone is wonderful.

                I crush my cigarette under my boot. It was a cheap one, anyway, that Racetrack sold me for a penny. I'll soak him for that, it contained the worst tobacco I've ever smoked. And I look up at you, and you're just waiting. So patient, Mush! How do you do it? Love the whole world the way you do? I wonder if you know that your eyes are the only things that keep most of us going.

                "So. There's this thing that I wanted to talk about." My throat is all dry, but my voice sounds normal. At least that's good. You nod at me, raising your eyebrows toward the stars. I can tell that you are bursting inwardly with curiosity, yet you still don't even tell me to hurry it up, or remind me that there are dozens of other things you need to be doing right now. You know I need you, I need to talk to you, and you're content to just wait it out.

                Five minutes pass. I'm back to staring at my hem. I can't tell you. What was I thinking? How could I do this to you, make you waste all this time on me? I'm about to suggest you go back inside when you speak up.

                "How was your selling today?"

                It's a tactic to distract me, and I recognize it instantly and am grateful for it. I snatch for the bait you've offered and run with it. "Oh, fine," I babble. "Me and Snoddy and Snitch went down to the Park and, God Almighty! There was this woman there with a god-awful poodle and it caught ahold of Snitch's pants leg and they were just rolling over and over and you'd never think a little horrible dog like that would be so vicious but it was, and it just kept yapping and yapping and, Lord! I've never seen anything more hilarious in my life. Oh, yeah, and the three of us each sold out of papers, too."

                I suddenly realize how loud I was talking and fall silent again. You're grinning. I think you like to hear me talk. "Is that what you wanted to tell me?" you ask, and for once your hazel eyes aren't looking at me, but are staring up at that huge moon up above us. Your skin looks all milky-white in this lighting, even though usually you're the person furthest from pale, what with your olive coloring and all. You seem to realize that I've noticed your lack of eye contact, and your head snaps down, your eyes locking onto mine. Then I remember I haven't answered your question.

                "No, it's not what I wanted to tell you," I answer. You know already. It's all formality here, and I still can't let myself tell you. You're his best friend, for God's sake! Your eyes aren't even blinking. How strange, but it looks like you don't even have eyelashes. I never noticed how light golden they were before. They've probably been bleached blond by the sun, because God knows the you look nothing like Dutchy, who has gold eyelashes, but inherited.

                I fold my arms across my chest. You copy the stance, then laugh. I laugh too. It's nice to break the tension. I should tell you. I should tell you! What's the worst that can happen?

                I don't even let my mind answer that self-question. It's been coming up with scenarios since three o'clock this afternoon, when I first decided I'd tell you.

                And suddenly I'm ready.

                I think you know what I'm about to tell you. You have this real strange little smile on the corners of your mouth, like you're just waiting for me to bring up a topic you're an expert on.

                "Mush, this is gonna sound… bad. But…" And again I falter. But you look so understanding, damn you! I can't stop now. I clear my throat. "I like him. Blink, I mean."

                A look of confusion crosses your face, but it's acting. I can tell. "What do you mean?" you ask, and there is just a touch of surrealism to your voice. I shake my head. I know you know. You know that I know. But you still play dumb. You know I'll want to kill myself later if I don't actually say it. God, you're so smart. "We all like Blink, don't we?"

                I turn away. I can't tell you while looking at you, even if you do know what I'm going to say. I even stand up from my seat across from you, turning and facing over the opposite wall, looking out over the city. "I like him more than that," I say softly, but it sounds so loud. So very goddamn loud! I can hear you moving to stand as well, and sense you coming to stand behind me. "I… God, Mush, I love him." I lower my head, and you come around in front of me. You touch my shoulder, and I look up into your understanding damn hazel eyes! Tears are filling my own eyes, and there's all this sweat on my forehead, and it's mixing so that I don't know if the glass sequins fixated to my cheeks are tears or perspiration, and it's so frustrating and through it all, _God dammit, you understand! You pull me into a hug. You don't judge me. Thank God for you, Mush._

                And then something changes, and you're so close to me, and all I can do is stare deep into those hazel orbs situated in your face, and they're moving closer, and it's like I'm gonna get pulled into them. I almost shiver, but it's not from the chill that will surely be settling around us soon. And then you're closer, and closer still, and I don't want you to stop coming closer, and suddenly I think you've stopped and now it's me that's coming closer, so I stop, and then you come closer some more, and I know you want me to come closer too, so I do. And then, a little burst of heaven. Your lips touch mine. Again, again, again! And my eyes close as my arms roughly find their way around your frame, and it's so awkward and beautiful all at the same instant! And it wasn't Blink I loved at all! And you knew! You goddamn knew the whole time!

                It's strange, but as I feel your probing tongue flit against mine, I can feel your eyes probing my face too. I open my own eyes, to see only hazel, so close that I can count the specks of dark green and gold nestled in there. It's intoxicating, better than even the brandy we get at Christmas. God, I love you! I love you!

                …Kid Blink is angry at me tonight. Yes, again. But it doesn't matter, because I'm up on the roof, and the stars are too bright, and this is too right, and maybe tonight's the only happy night in my life, but I don't care.

                Because I found love. And all I really needed were your damn hazel eyes.

[**author's end excuses**] Strange? Yes, I know. But it's my first slash attempt! Please review, because I just stole a whole bucketful of Falco's waffles and I'll hand them out to reviewers! **Mondie hides from Falco but waves waffles at everyone else**


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